Blackout
by AlexHamato
Summary: Events after the Winter Incident sends Raphael into a downward spiral of bad decisions and isolation from the family that fights to keep him, and themselves, on stable ground. One brother has had enough of the amplified brooding nature and sets out to finish it himself, at whatever cost.


_This almost killed me. After fourteen pages and too many words that I refuse to count, I'm finally done. This stupid one-shot put me in Hiatus for months because I was too frustrated with it. I'm still not overly happy with it, but I refuse to work on it anymore, so here it is! It's barely edited and the ending will sound off from the rest of it, because I wrote it months afterwards. It's not the most glorious of my work, but I did put too much work into it. So chip away! Hopefully some good came out of it.  
_

_I do not own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Nickelodeon does._

* * *

Blackout

**I'm stuck in this bed you made **

**Alone with a sinking feeling **

**I saw through the words you said**

**To the secrets you've been keeping **

Weathered rope moaned as it rocked like a pendulum, the bristles digging into his skin as Michelangelo turned up the volume on his walk-man. Waves and jingles of a fast paced beat with heavy bass filled the dreary room, brightening it from its dark self. Around him were the ghostly remains of his brother's prized possessions. Street lamp in one corner, rusting lifting equipment pushed against the wall, and small piles of miscellaneous junk that looked lost in the shabbiness of this room.

There used to be more possessions of value here, magazines, coats, nice quilts that were gifts from their human friends. Items of importance, for Raphael, at least. Mikey could remember the defensiveness and desperate shouts of anger at the idea of anybody touching or breaking his valuables.

Swinging in his brother's hammock, Mike could still remember the distant look on his brother's face as he dumped an entire cardboard box of cherished toys from childhood right on his lap. Beaten, battered, and in horrible shape from being the tossed trash from human children, they were pieces of treasure, nonetheless.

Why did his brother let go of them? They were his, as a child, the only remains of his childhood that he really had left. Eyes narrowing as he chewed thoughtfully on the insides of his cheeks, he rocked the hammock in beat with the music, as his heart sank with a squirming dread of snakes nestling in his stomach.

Something was wrong. Every look he gave his brother would be turned away and ignored as he walked past him. Even as Mike would follow, his brother would find some way to avoid him. Not only him, Mikey grimaced, but the entire family as well. A pained light always scrambled its way into Raph's face whenever Leo entered the room, causing tidal waves of awkward stirrings.

Mike didn't know the entire story, but he knew enough. The rest he pieced together from the shifty movements between his brothers, the shaded and apologetic eyes after dragging his oldest brother out of Winter's Enterprises. His oldest brother's Katana were broken, and Mike was sure that they didn't simply snap themselves itself during a fight, there was a reason. He was going to find out that reason.

Seconds turned into minutes, and those minutes crawled by on broken knees as he lay, simply swinging in his brother's hammock and enjoying the familiar presence of the room. Dust was heavy in the air, but he took no mind to it as the rocking motions made his eye lids heavy as lead. Shuffled footsteps and a closing door woke him up. Rolling out of the hammock, his stomach flipped as did he when the movement capsized the hammock and left him plastered to the ground below. Heart in his throat and mouth dry, Mikey scrambled to his feet and after his avoidant brother.

"Raph, wait!"

"Go away."

**It's written upon your face **

**All the lies how they cut so deeply **

**You can't get enough you take **

**And take and take and never say**

Eyes narrow and wary as Raphael turned away from him, but Mikey refused to let any more of this awkward and uncomfortable silence linger on around the house. He would at least find out what the issue was, and then hopefully find a way to fix it. Or help, at least.

Grabbing his brother by the shoulder, he turned the heavier turtle towards him with a determined light in his blue gaze, "No, I'm not going to way. I'm going to stalk you until you at least let up a _part_ of whatever the hell is bothering you. I don't know if you've noticed, but the lair has the same feel as a freaking morgue does, dude. That's creepy, if anything."

Flickering hesitation from Raph, body tense and ready to flee if need be. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm fine, man. You're just paranoid."

"Yeah, I _wish_ I was paranoid. I think that this is a little deeper than what I think it is though, Raph. Are you still freaking out over that Winter's thing, or is this about Leo's swords?"

His brother swallowed so loudly that he could hear it from a foot away, "Thought so," Mike said as he followed his fleeing victim of his interrogation, "Don't even think about it, dude. I drank three Red Bulls and could _fly_ after your ass until you drop. So spill."

Grunting and turning away from him, he stomped out of later as Mikey kept on his heels. "Whatever. Follow me around stupidly then, like I care. You're just wasting your life."

"Uh, don't you mean time?" Mikey asked as he balked slightly at the words choice, that the last part sounded almost as a slip of tongue, it was so rushed. "You meant time, right?"

"Yeah. Right."

**No, you've gotta get it inside **

**You push it back down, you push it back down **

**No, you'll never get it inside **

**Push it back down, blackout, blood in your eye**

Chilled water droplets rolled down his face, closed eyes flickering against the slimy trails left behind in their paths. Hand raised to shield his eyes as they blinked groggily, slowly opening as Mikey grimaced at the marching band of throbbing pain pulsating from his skull enough to rattle his teeth. Wiping his face clean of the polluted moisture, his eyes squinted as they adjusted to their dark and musky surroundings.

Maybe _coward_ was not the best insult to lash at his brother. At the rate he was being knocked out by his brothers, Mike contemplated investing in a helmet, because contrary to popular belief, his head was _not_ thick enough.

Groaning and mumbling slurred insults towards the hidden ears of the sewer walls, he used their moldy selves as leverage to pull his sore body up. Now to _find_ his brother, who has probably run off in the heat of whatever crazy mood he was in and is wading chest-high in guilt. Sighing dramatically for extra flair in his search effort, Mikey leaped into a full sprint, the pain of his head present but dulled down to a steady throb. That he could handle. Emotionally tormented brothers? Not so much.

Intuition especially high on this night, Mike gave credit to the full moon, as he traveled along the deserted docks that littered the coastline, on the outskirts of the city. Restraining himself from posing before the water's reflection, a habit he _really_ needed to push himself out of. He dove into the icy water as his body bucked when the chilled waves cut through his very bone and stole his precious air.

The way through the sticky tendrils of kelp was cold and dark. Dancing forests of the brown vegetation grew all along the Eastern Tip of Long Island, providing good cover for him as he scuffled along the sandy floor at a quick swim. Squinted eyes looking through the forests of kelp, he managed to spot in the distance a distorted cave with a looming mouth gaping as it sucked all the surrounding light from the area.

Just like how he remembered it, all those years ago. Mikey knew that there were only certain places that Raph preferred to hang out at, for some solitary time. Finding this little diamond in the rough was a strike of good luck, and was always the first place that Mike would check, if his brother was especially upset for whatever reason. The way was blinding, as if he was swimming through a black paint that allowed no light through itself. Using the jagged rocks as a guide, Mike followed his way through the winding tunnels, keeping in mind his location as by joy; he managed to see light trickling through the water from above. Grinning widely at his achievement, he rushed towards the surface and broke through; gasping for the sweet air that filled his lungs so hungrily.

Light flickered across the shifting waters of the pool, which Mikey floated in; the source came from kerosene lamps that were placed around a sandy and relatively dry portion of the cave. The land was shadowed, but Mikey could faintly make out a silhouette cast in shadow as his eyes finally became adjusted to the light.

"Raph?"

No movement.

"Come on, dude. You're really going to make me swim all the way over there after I just chased your lame ass through these funky caves?"

Not a stir of breath. The air was still.

Words lost on his tongue, Mike swam towards the shore with numb limbs, making his movements sloppy and clumsy. Stumbling out of the water, he dropped to his knees and shook his brother violently, "Raph, Raph! Wake up!"

The room was hot, too warm and suffocating. Clicking softly as the metal expanded in the lamps, the Kerosene burned brightly as fumes rose from the flames and distorted the air. Fumes unclean and tainting the breathing air with its noxious fumes. Heart leaping up his throat as sweat beaded and pooled down his skin, he grabbed Raph's meaty arm and gave him a might tug, "Come on, get up!"

Dizziness made his mind swirl as flashes of white caused his head to become light, as if he was floating with his body feeling detached and numb. Carbon Monoxide poisoning. Grimacing as his brother's carapace scrapped against the rock infested sand. Mike pulled him into the water and dipped his brother's head down into its chilled body.

"Wake up, Raph! Don't do this to me, you stupid… idiot! Don't do this!" Voice thick, breaking in his throat and tumbling out of his mouth, "Don't give up like this!"

Vision distorted as his eyeballs swam in hot, salty liquids that spilled down into the dark water below. With every ripple of water, small bubbles broke the surface and Mikey pulled up on his brother, remerging his head from the water as he called out loudly through a nasal congested face, "Raph!"

Haggard coughs wracked his brother's lungs; the wet and congested sound was music to Mikey's ears as he pulled his brother back onto the shore. Knowing that the carbon monoxide was still present, he attempted to lift his brother, to drag him out of the cave if he had too. "Raph, you there? Come on, dude, talk to me. Swear, belch, do something!"

The cold body in his arms lurched forward, spewing a hot, stinging mess that smelled as if his brother swallowed the entire supply of algae along the East Coast. "… Or that. Dude, that's nasty."

His brother's voice was so hoarse, he could be talking with shards of glass embedded in his throat for all the sense that Mike could derive from the babble. "Woah, dude, what was that? I missed it because of all the gurgling. Did you say something about Oprah?"

"Go 'way…"

"Alright, that does it. I am dragging your lame ass back home! I can't believe you just told me to go away after you almost _died_, and I totally saved you." Volume rising to a considerably high pitch, Michelangelo proceeded to do just that, against the flailing of his brother. "Stop squirming, Raph!"

Thick hands pressed against him, knocking him back. His fingers were numb from the cold and easily lost their purchase on the slippery body. The iced water splashed against him as he scowled, looking around at the dark water around him, looking for his brother. "What the hell is WRONG with you? I'm just trying to help and the only thing you ever do is push me away! Push _us_ away! We're your family, damn it! Start accepting that, Raph!"

No answer from the shadowed tides around him, the dancing light refracting off the cave walls didn't reach the depths of the shifting waters below.

**You say that it's not your fault **

**And swear that I am mistaken **

**You said it's not what it seems**

**No remorse for the trust you're breaking **

Air stolen from his lungs as a blow from below came and rattled his chest. His brother stood up and towered over his smaller stature, "You shouldn't've come after me."

"Uh, _yeah_, apparently I should have! You don't even know how to NOT gas yourself to death! Don't even get me started on the totally lame ass move of knocking me out! I wasn't even prepared or anything, dude." Crossing his arms and standing on the tips of his toes, he gave his brother a full gaze of irritation.

Drawing a hand over weary eyes, his brother shook his head and took several step backs, folding in on himself. "Don't understand. Should've left me there," Raph said in a strained voice, like a line pulled too tightly and taunt. "I did."

Face crumpling in confusion at his brother's babbling, Mikey groaned and threw his hands up in exasperation. "What the hell does that mean? _Who_ did you leave behind? Is this about Leo still? Look, dude, I know that you're all guilty about that issue-thing but it's not like Leo's holding a grudge or anything. He already forgave you for that, dude. People make mistakes."

Gleaming metal centimeters from between his eyes, both warriors froze in the water, the pointed weapon exposed and threatening. Refusing to step back, Mike shifted his confused stare from the point of the Sai and to his brother, saying nothing and waiting with his breath trapped in his chest.

"I was going to _kill_ him, Mike. Just like this," Raph breathed heavy, almost in pants as his face contorted and twisted with pain at his memories, "Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"Because you're my brother, dude. Simple as that." Mikey grinned cheekily as he stepped forward brazenly towards the pointed weapon in his face, "I trust you."

The Sai was pulled back as Mikey moved forward, much to the discomfort of the wielder. "You're weird as hell, you know that?"

"Totally. It's what makes me, well, me. I wouldn't change it, so why are you so bent trying to make us give up on you, just because you're… you? That doesn't make sense, dude. If anything, that sounds weirder than anything even _I'd_ do, Raph."

Weapons sheathed with his back turned as he dove back into the water, Mikey stomped his foot and yelled out at the water in frustration. "Damn it, Raph! Get back here! I seriously do not feel like chasing your ass all over New York again!" Giving a frustrated sigh which brought white dots to dance in his vision, he held his head wearily as his vision spun. He needed to get out of here, to get some fresh air.

Diving back into the water, he blindly swam towards the mouth of the cave to catch his running brother.

**You run but then back you fall**

**Suffocate in the mess you're making **

**You can't get enough you take **

**And take and take and take and take **

The distorted figure of his brother ahead several paces came into view as soon as he left the cave, swimming right on his heels. His lungs burned slightly from the lack of air, the high percentage of Carbon Monoxide stealing away his oxygen. Pushing his body to move faster, he ignored the sharp cries of his limbs as he reached out to grasp his brother's foot, tugging on it with all of his weight.

The opposite foot striking out towards his face, which he rolled out of the way and twisted the other ankle as he moved through the water. His body suddenly lurched forward as the foot he gripped slung him upwards, towards the surface. Fingers slipping as the poor purchase on the ankle released and he found himself floating towards the surface, glaring down at his older brother.

Settling down in determination on a rare instance where he _refused_ to back down, even as darkness blotted his vision and consciousness began to haze from lack of air, he refused to give in. Body convulsing as the first waves of survival instinct as his body struggled for oxygen. He breathed in too much of the noxious gas; it was eating away at his lungs. He was suffocating on his own stupidity.

His brother kicked off from below, rocketing his body upwards and grabbing the crook of Mikey's arm as he shot himself through the surface of the water. Both brothers gasping for air as their lungs hacked and upheaved unwanted water from their chest, the night was especially dark with the clouds overcasting the entire sky.

"Fuck, Mike, are you stupid or something?"

"I was just doing what you were back there!"

"… Don't copy me. Ever." Almost throwing Mikey onto the wooden pier, Raph pulled himself up and sat on the edge, his own chest heaving as he fought to regain his breath.

"Why not? Have you ever thought that maybe I _might_ just look up to you? All of you! And then you go and do something totally stupid like that. It's really frustrating, like you're just drowning in all this crap that you make up for yourself. It's going to destroy you eventually, dude."

"Yeah, so? I'm not going to drag your ass down into my mess. Or anybody else! I know I fuck up my own life, doesn't mean I have to screw you all over too." Using the pier's pillar to leverage himself up and stand on his own two feet, he stumbled down the rickety structure.

"How long are you going to run away, Raph?"

"I'm not running." Shoulder's drooped, as if a great weight rested on them; he trudged on.

"Never listens…"

**Fuck it, are you listening?**

"Don't even know why I try!" Mikey exclaimed outwardly to himself as his brother disappeared from view, traveling back into the city. Sighing wearily, curling up his legs and rubbing his temples, he muttered to himself, "Yeah, I do. Stupid brother bond, thing."

The towering buildings were speckled with light as it casted a luminous glow across the changing tides in the water below him. Gazing at the spectacle for a few moments before gathering himself enough to stand, Mikey began his trek after his brother. As imperfect, bullheaded, emotional, and irrational as his brother was, he was still his brother. He didn't have a choice, because his decision would always be the same in any situation.

He will always follow his brothers, his family.

**No, you've gotta get it inside **

**You push it back down, you push it back down **

**No, you'll never get it inside **

**Push it back down, you push it back down**

Rare beauty and light of yellow tulips dotted the base of a closed shop, the basement windows behind the flowers barred with iron bonds. Angry graffiti scoured the brick walls of the shop, busted in windows boarded up with splintered wood badly crafted and applied. The shop stuck up like a haggard tree who's branches were severed with all that remained was a miserable stump. With a bird-eye gaze from above, Mikey leaned over the building he perched on, watching his brother pace across the roof of this shop like a caged animal.

The air was hazy with smog that engulfed the entire city in its polluted waste. Shadowed streets and burned buildings littered this neighborhood. Only people who lived in this wasteland were those of weary eyes and soiled clothing. Hope lost, as they simply clung to life and lived day by day. It was a sad place, a place that his brother always seemed drawn too.

Training below, a warped mockery of what his oldest brother obsessively practiced daily, Raphael was moving through the movements of a Kata. Tiger's Awakening was an old Kata, one they learned years ago when they first began exploring the outside world, from their lair. Watching his brother with a troubled expression, he sighed as he observed from above.

Wide, angry and powerful strikes posed with deep stances as his brother gathered himself for each leaping attack with his fists and open palm ripping apart unseen foes. Every strike wild and untamable as his brother moved from stance to stance. Mikey clicked his tongue in irritation as he noticed the lack of defensive maneuvers in the Kata, the usual ducks, rolls, and leaps that would avoid danger to his brother in a real fight were completely left out. As his brother was sticking purely to the offensive strikes, Mikey grimaced at the lack of control of the guilt-ridden fury below him. His brother was so dramatic sometimes, and they had the audacity to call _him _a drama queen!

Leaping over the chasm between the two buildings, he rolled out as he landed and jogged to meet up with his brother with a wave and a bright grin, "Yo, dude! Fancy meeting you here. What a coincidence, huh? I guess it's a small world afterall."

"You're really going to follow me all night?"

"Dude, as long as I'm breathing, I'm going to be following you. So you better get used to it. I'm a weirdo, remember? Weirdo's stalk people, it's a proven fact."

"Whatever," Raph mumbled as he stood awkwardly, tracing his toe along the rough cemented roof with an almost nervous tone to his gestures. "So, uh… You wanna grab a drink or something? They got some kinda shitty concert going on in Central Park tonight. Only good part is the live cannons at the end."

"Sounds cool, dude. You can talk about your feelings when we get there, I guess. Truthfully, I can do the whole bro-mance thing, but I'd rather you just tell me what's eating you up. Who knows? Maybe I can help. If you would, you know, trust me?"

Moments passed time at a crawling lull of awkwardness, both brothers avoiding gazes and shifting around as they hesitated from being the first to speak. Mike laughed nervously, the sound of his voice grating his own nerves, "Cannon fire, huh? Sounds pretty awesome, we better hurry and get there before it like, storms or something."

True to word, brilliant flashes raked across the sky in angry torrents as the lightening snaked it's way through the overlying clouds, followed by the thundering crashes of rolling thunder. Tilted his head back to look at the spectacle, Raph pointed upward and towards the storming clouds with a scowl.

"Damn weather, I bet they'll cancel the show now."

"Nah, there's a little blue of sky way off to the east, dude. The wind is blowing that this way too, so I bet as soon as they start, the storm'll probably pass right by."

Ladders of light cut down past the grey overcast blankets of clouds as they climbed up into the heavens. Bright blue peaked past the dark, stormy coverage like an eye opening for the first time. Staring at the spectacle with awe, Mikey didn't notice that he was tasting blood until his face was pushed into the gritty cement.

He really hated ambushes.

**No, you've gotta get it inside **

**You push it back down, you push it back down **

**No, you'll never get it inside **

**Push it back down, blackout, blood in your eye**

Pointed blade and weighted wood soared through the rain infested air to cause shimmering curtains of water blossoming around them as they fought off their masked foes. The black suits of the Foot Ninja seemed into the dark night as the struck nimble and quick at their sides, where they were less limber and more exposed. Catching a fist in the crook of his elbow, Mike stepped forward to trap the enemy's elbow with his own and pivoted as a second enemy came in with a Kusari-Kama to the base of his neck. The arm snapped sickly in his arm as he used the momentum to throw the howling opponent into the other, before rolling forward onto his hands to slam the base of his heel into an enemy who attempted a sneaky and quick kunai into his brother's side, under the armpit.

"What your sides, dude. They're being really sneaky tonight, looks like they want some serious blood. Think we kicked these dudes asses before then? They all look the same to me."

Raph grunted as he bull rushed and cleared out five Ninja before him, using his raw power and strength to throw them over the ledge and down into the alleyway. Flipping as he leapt to cover his brother's back, Mikey's feet never touched the ground for more than a second as he bounced around the battlefield. His hits were light and fast, but left critical injuries that left his enemies writhing on the ground at his feet.

"Raph, we have to hurry or we're going to miss that concert!" Mikey called back as he ducked, pivoted, and threw a spinning back kick to send one Foot Ninja into three more. He figured that if he fought them like dominos, he would take them out faster. Grinning as he leapt high at a fast, tight spinning front flip as his brought a hammer heel down onto another enemy's shoulder, sending him crashing into the ground with a broken collarbone. "I'm on twenty-six now, you?"

His brother grabbed a Foot Ninja by the face with his bare hand and grunted as he tossed the enemy like a rag doll into five others. Following up with a flying roundhouse to clear the entire lot, he threw back kick to finish off an opponent sneaking behind him with intent to stab him in the back with a Kunai. "That was thirty-two, you're slowing me down, Mike."

"Whatever, you just haven't seen me at my best, yet. Watch this!" Whipping his hand around to find _anything_ of use, he spotted the red and winding tubes of emergency hose strapped to the side of a cement shack on the roof of a building across from them. Grinning brightly as he danced between enemies without a scratch and leapt over the alleyway to grab and flip himself onto the other roof, Mike made his way over to the hose and unlatched it.

A good number of the Ninja followed him, not wanted either of them to get away, and charged as Mike kicked the metal wheel into motion. The hose in his hands hummed and expanded as he jumped forward into a deep leaning dragon stance with the hose strung hand to hand, behind his carapace and knocked several opponents down with the torrent of water alone. Aiming the hose towards the ground, he leapt and used the extra momentum from the water to easily clear the horde of Foot Ninja and spray them towards the binding of the hose, as he circled around them and herded them into the strong loop he created with the hose.

Rain still pelted the fighters, but the firefighting hose drenched the now shivering Foot Ninja as they stood miserably, wrapped up in the lengths of the hose. Mike could see his brother in the corner of his eye laughing and moving to turn off the water, as he took that moment to actually tie the hose down, and completely bind their enemies. They stood back together with matching grins at the amusing spectacle of the water logged and grumbled Foot Ninja drenched and shivering from the cold.

"You get this round, but only because that's funny as hell."

"Damn right, I do! Dude, do you have your phone? I totally have to take a picture of-" Leaping back as his skin crawled with alarm, he made sure to drag his brother with him. Dust and flying debris resounded like a clap of thunder where they just stood, less than a second ago, "What the hell? Dude…"

A rattling sound echoed like the ancient and hollowed lungs of those long dead as a metallic figure stood towering over the two turtles. The familiar red insignia of the Foot Clan was presented on the golden helm. Lumbering forward, standing several feet taller than them and carrying the great war axe like a heavy burden as it's slow steps came forward, the very weight making the cement and stone creek and crumble under it.

The rain drizzled and ran down in rivulets along the weathered and rusted body of the creature. Skin replaced with iron, and gears spinning in it's head to open blood encrusted jaws as a croaking voice rang out like a horrible bell, "Crush them. Cut them."

"I prefer hold me, touch me but your version is alright, Mister… Cyborg? What the hell are you again?"

"Looks like something out of fucking Skyrim. What are those big ass bastards who always kill me…"

"Uh, those Dwarven Centurion dudes? You have to try to kill them before they're activated!" They ducked as the great sword swooped down upon them with gushes of wind blowing over their heads. Raph rolled out of the range of the axe with a scowl, "Well this one is pretty fucking activated and is going to lob off our heads if we don't keep on our feet." Mike was surprised that moss wasn't growing out of the holes that riddled the metallic body, as if it's gone through thousands of years of hardened battle. Despite the signs of great age, the mechanical creature moved with sharp precision that left the Turtles weary.

The battle was a simple match of cat and mouse as the creature swung it's mighty axe forward and the Turtles kept at bay with their quicker movements. Sooner than he wished, Mikey's legs began to burn and quiver with exhaustion as the mechanical being showed no signs of lagging. His brother's voice was heavy and ragged beside him, and Mikey knew then that they were running out of time. Their weapons only left shallow scratches on the armor, and no organic part of the creature was revealed.

Weak points seemingly nonexistent as worry wrung his stomach tighter and tighter. Mike sheathed his weapons for a moment as he reached for his phone and cartwheeled out of an attack that come from above and slammed into the ground where he stood. His belt was empty. Holding back the temptation to swear fiercely and throw a tantrum in his distress, he leaped and swung a single Nunchucku to wrap it around the creature's neck. Mikey held on as his body flailed around like a dead fish. His position distracted his enemy enough that it raised it's axe high as it's shoulder blades rotated against nature and struck down at it's own back.

Raphael took that moment of the axe swinging down to charge forward and shove the prongs of his Sai into the aged holes that riddled the creature's chest. His weapons met nothing but the gears that snatched away his weapon. Mike dropped in time to see sparks fly from all angles of the machine's torso. The grinding screech of metal striking made his ears ring and prickle with pain as he rolled out of his enemy's range of attack. His brother was hidden from view by the hulking form of the monster, but he could hear his brother cry out loudly. The sound punched the air out of his lungs as he rushed forward mindlessly and launched himself onto the shaft of the axe hovered over his brother.

"No!" The creature faltered as it stumbled back, the sparks continuing to leap out of it's chest like live firecrackers as it gripped the Turtle's entire left leg. Mike could feel his bones creaking as his fingers were ripped away from the weak purchase on the enemy's war axe. Concrete swirled below his head in sickening tides of gray motion as his body lurched forward with the strength of the monster twirling him around as if he would to his own Nunchucks.

His mind didn't even register the warning signs of danger until all physical feeling left him. Sounds muffled and fading as if they were caught in funnel cascading downward and sucking away his hearing. His arms lay limply at his sides as his head fell forward with no neck to support it. Gleaming bright red stared up at him from a piece of metal sticking out from his stomach, reminding him faintly of the cherry filling in a fruit pie. Bright lights popped before his vision moments before it faded to black.

**Floating down as colors fill the light **

**We look up from the ground in fields of paperwhite **

**And floating up, you pass us in the night **

**A future gazing out, a past to overwrite **

A kaleidoscope of colors spun before him. The hues of red and green spun faster than the rest, before merging into a mucky brown. The colors slowed as the buzzing of what sounded to be a nest of bumblebees resounded. His eyes prickled as he looked down at what looked like a smeared oil canvas painting with green bouncing balls huddled around a red Christmas tree.

This buzzing intensified as the image grew smaller, as if he was floating upwards and viewing the landscape far below him. Fear, thick and new as the first emotion that filtered through the veil of confusion filled him. He couldn't separate from the familiar image before him, he couldn't leave.

As his fear grew, the images faded and he found himself lost in tides of faded pastels and swirling masses of sounds. A single bright ray of light cut through the veil and his instincts of survival warned him against the warming glow. Michelangelo knew that it was a one-track path, and one that he had no control of. An end, or a beginning, he had no knowledge of. The uncertainty was engaging but frightening all at the same time.

The light grew in size as he felt himself being pulled towards it, sucked into the light's depth. Hundreds of mixtures of emotions, all pleasant and well-being filled his senses as he was cascaded with a merry bliss of thoughtlessness. There was no turning back now, not with the colors so far behind him.

**So come down far below **

**We've been waiting to collect the things you know **

**Come down far below **

**We've been waiting to collect what you've let go**

Pain, hot and heavy on his chest. Screeching and crackling buzzed inside his head as metallic liquid filled his mouth. White flashes raced across his vision, making his eyeballs dance in their sockets to a painful beat. Ticking off to his right while gurgled voices resounded around him.

"I've got something!" The voice was loud and overbearing as it beat down into his skull and rattled his brain. Much too bright lights beamed themselves into his eyeballs, burning them. He would have yelped, if he wasn't already choking on whatever liquids filled his lungs. "His pupils are dilating. I… I think he's back. He's really back."

"Raph, put down that thing's head and get your ass over here! Don got him back!"

The iron clang of metal on stone was barely heard over the eruption of voices that drowned out the rest of his senses, save for pain, that sensory organ always seemed to work for him. Mike's eyes bulged as his weak airways were constricted by some tough mass of skin and shell.

"Give him some air, Raph. Damn it, he just came back so don't go and kill him again! He can't breathe with you smothering him."

A prick in the back of his hand unleashed a flood of numbness throughout his body as his mind floated. His head could have been filled with jelly for all he knew or cared, Mikey was just relieved that the pain finally diminished.

"Mike… Mikey. Mike's here. Can you hear me, man? You look like shit."

Eyelids were heavy, but Michelangelo could make out the blurred image of his brother's grief stricken face inches away from his own. The steamy breath blown across his nostrils wasn't the most pleasant smell that he's ever experienced, but it was familiar. That made it the best smell he's been able to register since he woke up.

"So does your breath, dude." His voice crackled as if he swallowed a bucket full of thistles. "Where's that… thing? I think I had a bit more axe popping out of my stomach too, last I remember."

Purple pushed red out of his view of sight as more light was shined in his face, "That was dismembered by yours truly and Leo. Wasn't that difficult after Raph's Sai made it's way through the gears in the machine's chest cavity. Then he tore off the head, you would have loved to see it if you were… Can you feel this?"

The awkward and painful statement was interrupted by several taps along his toes and fingers. Mikey nodded and his brothers all gave a long sigh of relief. "He's not paralyzed then. I only brushed up my anatomy studies recently, so I had to wing most of the… procedure."

"He's not an engine from one of your rusted cars, Don. You can call it a surgery," Leo leaned into his apparently non-existent personal bubble and prodded his forehead and cheeks, "He's not talking much, is that the drugs?"

"Probably, I gave him enough to make a full grown bull elephant feel light as a hummingbird."

"Don, that sounds dangerous. What if it damages his brain? That much can't be healthy."

"It's fine, you're always too paranoid about pain medication, Leo. The effects will wear off soon enough."

"But you can't be sure tha-"

"Will _both_ of you shut up! I'm interrupting your little marital fight. Give us some room, will you? I need to… Just leave."

Mikey's consciousness was very weak as most of the argument was faded or muffled, he forced himself to focus more intently as he watched two of his brothers leave the room. His mouth was dry, and he couldn't feel his tongue, so his speech was slurred and hard to hear even in his own ears.

"Why're they…"

"It's okay, they're just going into the next room, Mike." His brother shifted uncomfortably before purchasing himself down into a chair at his bedside with an awkward expression on his face, "I ain't good at this, and you know it. But I can't let my own damn stupidity leave you, or any of them with fucking foot long axes sticking out of their belly."

Mike nodded to show that he understood the general meaning of what was said, not that most of it actually filtered past the drugs and into his head. His brother rubbed the palms of his hands against his face with a shuddering breath, "That was too damn close, Mikey. Too damn close. I can't get that out of my head. You shouldn't have followed me. Why can't you just… No, you're fine. You did what any of us would do. What I'm trying to say is…"

"Okay," Mikey coughed out. He reached a hand out to pat his brother's forearm, but could only manage a weak touch. "It's okay."

"No, it's not. I should have snapped out of my personal bullshit the moment I almost stabbed Leo through the face, Mike. I shouldn't have let it come this far. Not again." Raph stood up sharply and shook the cot lightly with his movement, "Sorry. Uh, I was saying something… Oh, yeah. After that fight with Leo, I promised not to let my stupid ass let one of you guys get killed because I didn't pull myself together right. I figured that if I just wasn't around any of you, that I wouldn't fuck up anything. I was wrong though, and you got the shitty end of the stick because of that."

"Shit happens, dude." Mikey managed to pull off a grin, which most likely looked loopy from the drugs, "You're wrong about being wrong when you were right. Wait… What the hell am I saying again?"

"I got it, man. You sound delirious. Don really did drug you up, didn't he?"

"Yeah, you could be Pee-Wee Herman for all I can tell, dude."

His brother sat back down into the chair, his posture more relaxed than before. Raph leaned forward slightly to stare mindlessly at the heaps of stitches and bandages that swamped Mikey's torso. Twitching his nostrils as the incessant itching began to form under his wrappings, he took as deep of a breath as his beaten chest would allow. He would have to ignore the urge to itch, for now. Then after he regained proper control of his limbs, he would have to maneuver discreetly around his brother, Donatello. His controlling brother never understood how itching old bandages could be.

"So, uh… I think I had to go talk to somebody about… something," Raph offered lamely as he sat awkwardly in his seat. "Like if you wanted to sleep alone. Because I'm not some creeper who watches people when they sleep or anything. Because I haven't."

"As long as you don't smother me in my sleep, I'm cool. Now grab Don's thingamajig and itch under my right armpit over there, dude." Sighing with relief as the burning itches faded away, Mike grinned widely and nodded at his brother. "Thanks, Raph."

"Yeah, you too."

**Come down, oh Come down, oh Come down, oh Come down, oh Come down, oh...**

* * *

**A/N-Coming down sounds like me after writing this. Heh heh heh. I know the ending is a lot lighthearted than I originally intended, but I struggle a LOT with anything with too much of that angsty emotional stuff. Just not my forte.  
**


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